Not Everyone Can Be Saved
by Adgie
Summary: "It made coming to work everyday that much harder, but she needed it. It was her only salvation nowadays. Even Booth looked at her with sad, pitiful, eyes. How could he not?" An angsty break from my other angsty story. One-Shot. Way way way OOC.


A.N: This quite possibly the most ooc thing... like ever. I just like writing and love these characters so they get put through the hell my mind makes up. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, just the idea.

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**B&B**

Maybe if they hadn't had the Lauren Eames case it wouldn't have happened. For a while she was in touch with humanity. She related to people. She wasn't completely terrified of being hurt. She went out more. She socialized, it was still awkward, but she did it anyway. She picked up on colloquialisms and let herself be enveloped by the "Anthropologically speaking" she used to justify others' irrationalities with.

He was handsome. Tall, blonde, green eyes, and scraggly looking in a clean cut kinda way. Pretty much everything Booth wasn't. In looks anyway. He looked after her. He fed her, and sometimes he'd stay over and watch her sleep. He let her drive when she asked to. She woke up one day, to him standing in her doorway with a tray of food. Before, she would have been upset, but since meeting him she was content to have some one who wanted to make her happy. Booth had changed his mind, he wanted to make Hannah happy now. As she finished her breakfast a conversation with Angela, a long time ago came to mind. "Tell somebody something you're not completely certain you want them to know." rang through her head. She caught and held his eyes for what was very possibly a short time whether it felt that way or not. The words, all three of them, tasted so sweet on her lips. As if they belonged there. Apparently the laws of physics could be rattled, quite tremendously. Obviously, they hadn't broken the law. They weren't suddenly fused together as an aftermath of their love making.

That had taken a few days. She knew the symptoms, but the onslaught of exhaustion and constant nausea was always usually a giveaway. After the first trimester, they decided, is when they would tell everybody. She couldn't keep it from Booth. He would know. So she told him. She had wanted to anyway. He was still her partner, still her best friend, and he was the reason that she was so happy now. She wanted him to know. Besides, as she said, the perpetual nausea would have given her away. He was happy for her. He had never forgotten that she asked him for a baby 2 years ago. This was good. He told her she'd be a wonderful mom. She hoped so.

She supposed now, there was good reason people waited until the second trimester to tell. She imagined her friends had figured it out anyway. She was glad they had said anything, and that she had only told Booth. She noticed the glances filled with an emotion so unwanted, as her gait shifted back to normal and the bags under her eyes grew darker no longer settling for being covered by make-up. It made coming to work everyday that much harder, but she needed it. It was her only salvation nowadays. Even Booth looked at her with sad, pitiful, eyes. How could he not? It was tragic, the loss of a child. Even if no one had met them yet,

She and Seth had picked out names, presumptuous, it seemed now. She knew the risks of pregnancy. She ignored them. Now those names hung above them, as if her name was now Avery and his was Joel. This time, she couldn't compartmentalize. They never looked at each other anymore. When their eyes accidentally crossed paths, she would stiffen with a guilt she never imagined she'd carry, he would look at her with the same eyes as her colleagues with a veil of forgiveness hidden below it. It was wrong to forgive her, she thought, and she held onto the blame, welcomed it. It was her child now. It was with her all the time, and she nurtured it. One day, sitting in a haze, she felt his hands grip hers. Eyes shining, he apologized to her. She didn't register whisper of lips on her forehead nor the door clicking shut behind him.

Booth was always hanging around her now. Watching over her. At first she was incensed by it, but as the days passed, she found herself no longer caring. Seth still checked on her. It used to be every other day, then a few times a week, now it was when he could make it. She had stopped eating voluntarily. Only when forced did she find it necessary. Wandering aimlessly around the Jeffersonian, having completed a identification, she overheard Cam and Angela talking. How nowadays she was just a zombie with brains for only skeletons, how Booth's eyes looked tired all the time, how he never talked of Hannah anymore, wondering if they'd split. She wanted to feel terrible. The way she would have before, but even thinking of summoning the energy was tiring.

She wondered when they'd stop trying. She hadn't waited long for the answer. Cam, Angela, and Sweets stopped telling her talking about it would help and that they were 'right here'. She knew that. She'd rarely had a moment of solitude. Booth still brought her a meal 3 times a day. He still brushed his hand against hers, and he still gave her looks she had grown to hate so much but had become used to. But his presence was becoming more and more scarce. He told her, he had faith in her and that she'd pull through. That he knows she's strong enough. That he'll give her space. Then he said he was sorry he couldn't save her. She turned to him then, eyeing him. Maybe once upon a time…

"I'm not Wonder Woman, and you're not Clark Kent. Not everyone can be saved."

But then, seeing the heartache reflected in the eyes she hadn't truly looked at in so long. She felt something.

Maybe, one day, I'll feel again.

**FIN**


End file.
